


Hot and Heavy Whiskey Goodbyes

by ConsumedbyRain, LittleStarredSky



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Angst, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Fingering, Heavy Angst, Heavy Hickies, Heavy pining, Hickies, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, I'm Going to Hell, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Possessive Newt (Maze Runner), Possessive Thomas (Maze Runner), Rimming, Roommates, Secret Crush, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Unrealistic Sex, Unrequited Crush, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsumedbyRain/pseuds/ConsumedbyRain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleStarredSky/pseuds/LittleStarredSky
Summary: Newt does not consider himself a heavy drinker.Unless Thomas Clark is involved...(or that fic where newt forgets everything as soon as alcohol is involved)





	1. Chapter: 1

**Author's Note:**

> warning: this is sloppily edited ya sluts

Never - in his entire life - has Newt wanted to date someone as much as he wanted to date Thomas Evan Clark. From the moment the crush started developing he knew that it was by far the biggest infatuation he had ever had with another person. 

His entire high school experience was filled with a constant of Thomas Clark. Watching his lacrosse matches, tricking his friends into thinking he was absolutely indifferent about the boy, panicking before their shared Calculus II class. It was so exhausting. Everything Newt did was poisoned with the question of _What if Thomas sees me?_ And, _I wish I could talk to him,_ And the ever so frustrating, _I just want one kiss,_ please, _Lord_. 

Yet he was such an intoxicating factor of his years as well.

Newt had always felt such hate for the boy, but he also never wanted to stop liking him. He could feel such terrible pining for him, a wretched spike in his chest that made the rest of his torso curl into it, but he could also feel such fondness and admiration for him that his heart was warmed and filled as fakely as a mirage. 

He felt as if he never wanted to let go of Thomas Evan Clark. To keep him very close and tight next to his core. 

The warmth battled with the pain of knowing even if Thomas _was_ interested in Newt, they could never retain a serious relationship. 

Newt was very possessive. He knew it was a bad habit and he was learning to keep it under his thumb, but the trait still existed in the center of his soul. Thomas tended to sleep around and only with the female population of the school, which was already two strikes. He seemed to be very noncommittal. Never able to use the same pen every day, never able to sustain a relationship, never even wanting a relationship, all things that Thomas made habits of. The simple fact of this made Newt horrendously and desperately sad and soon that sadness festered fluidly into anger. 

He had spent so long being committed to a being who didn’t even know his name, let alone someone he had a chance with and wanted a chance with, to be completely honest. The frustration boiled through him and he wanted to leave Thomas Clark behind so he could finally start dating and being with someone without the faint thought of, _Not Thomas._

The way the boy controlled his emotional being was outrageous and it made Newt _mad._ No one should be able to control another like that, it’s simply unhealthy. It was the terminology Newt had assigned to the situation, and he refused to see it any other way. 

So when he heard they would be heading to the same college, his reaction was instantaneous. Saying he was enraged was a mere understatement. He had thought that college was going to be his one escape. That was his haven of which he could escape his captor. College was supposed to be his sanctuary, not his prison. Never in his life had he been so mad, and it was then that he realized, fully, how much emotion the other boy was able to get out of him. Spending his entire high school career pining for him was already bad enough, now he had to carry that obsession into college too? No, No way. He had spent too much time and energy pining after this boy, and he was absolutely _sick_ of not getting anything returned. Newt was going to forget he existed entirely, or die trying. 

So that is exactly what he did.

For his whole freshman year, Newt avoided and ignored Thomas. Ducking behind corridors, avoiding his friends, even leaving coffee shops they had mutually entered. Newt had managed to do it all and was planning to the year following, but even with all of the evading and hate that had festered in his heart, Thomas was still the center of Newt’s whole world. His universe rotated around where the other was going to be and if he was showing up a mutual acquaintance's party. It didn’t help that they had to share mandatory freshman classes. Thomas was still a deciding factor in Newts existence and he despised the fact more than he despised the man himself.  

 You can imagine the surprise and shock and _anger_ that crossed poor Newt Finnegan’s face when he found out the two were rooming with each other for their sophomore year of college. He would have to spend every day of the year with some stupid high school crush and even worse, a person whom he was trying desperately to forget about. 

All of the work and effort he had spent trying to forget about the object of his desire was about to be all for nothing, and he was going to fall for Thomas Clark all over again. 

~1~

Newt made a soft huff of accomplishment after he set down his final moving box. They laid splattered throughout the room, declining in distance from the edge of the room to the door. There were very few of them - he didn’t tend to bring very much to school - but damn were they heavy. Moving was always his least favorite part of starting college, and it didn’t help that in just a few days he’d be helping his sister settle in too. He rested for a few seconds, letting his breathing even out, and after a few moments of inner debate and acceptance due to his predetermined living state, he, very reluctantly, started unpacking his things, setting up his objects cozily as he did the year prior to this absolutely tormented nightmare. 

He resented the way he had so easily accepted this as his living situation and knew that deep down - to the abysmal core of his soul - he was heavily excited for all the possible interactions between him and Thomas it brought. He hadn’t seen the boy in so long and he honestly missed him. He missed the charming smile and ruffled hair and the _dimples_ . _God,_ how he missed those dimples. The amount of self-betrayal and inner slackening he felt made him sick, and he wanted to scream out in large boughs of frustration. Hell, he should be marching down to the administration's office right now, demanding for a new room before the year had a chance to start. Instead, he was caught in rolling waves filled with humiliating glee and self-hatred. His only joyful thought - if you could call such a malicious thought joyful - was that Thomas had not yet arrived at the school. Newt had unpacked his things four days before classes started this year. Not only because he liked the refreshing idea of settling in early, but also because half of his friend group lived in the state. In realizing this, they decided for the last week of summer break, they would arrive early, fuck around in their dorms without their decided roommates, and drink until the night sky blurred into an inky jumbled mess of stars and clouds. 

The probability of Thomas not arriving at the same time also helped to solidify the idea and was not taken out of account.

An abrupt knock broke across the door and Newt looked up from his work, slightly startled at the sudden din. He crossed the room swiftly and hesitated, breathing deeply while praying it was someone he actually _wanted_ to see. The idea of seeing Thomas jarred him. He had no idea how he would react to the boy or if he would even be able to converse with him somewhat fluidly. It scared him. Truly scared him. A few moments more passed by and Newt decided, _Fuck it,_ and without letting himself overthink too much, he threw the door open. 

A sigh - filled to the brim with relief - escaped him after he saw who stood in the hallway.

“Jesus, relieved to see me? Who the hell were you expecting?” Minho sat there with a smile aimed at Newt and quirk in his eyebrows that turned the question into more of a retort.  

Newt waved him off and answered in slight embarrassment, “I thought you might’ve been Thomas.” 

When Minho’s look dropped the smile and become more inquisitive, Newt explained, “He’s my dorm mate this year.”

The expression that crossed Minho’s face was purely sympathetic.

Thomas, Newt, and Minho had all attended the same high school with Minho being a mutual friend between the two. It made things incredibly awkward at times, especially when Newt _finally_ told him about his crush on Thomas. Minho has never fully understood why Newt had never wanted to hang out with them because if they got along with himself why wouldn’t they click as well? In typical Minho fashion though, he never asked why. Thomas and Minho had always understood each other and were close friends even to this day,  but Newt and he had been closer and had known each other longer in comparison. Which simply meant - he knew exactly why this was such a fucking big deal. 

His eyes widened within the sympathy. “Shit, dude.”

Newt nodded curtly in response, the reality sinking in even deeper with Minho’s commentary. “I doubt he even remembers me,” Newt said, desperately trying to reassure himself it wasn’t nearly as bad as he initially thought. 

Minho yielded a small sound of agreement before he was barging into Newt’s room and inspecting it with quick moving eyes, jarringly proceeding onto the next topic. He scoffed and a small chuckle sprouted from his mouth. “Your room looks exactly like it did last year.”

“That’s kinda the point dumbass,” Newt responded, following him deeper into the newly set up room. “It's a cozy arrangement.” Newts room consisted of a school provided desk, bed, side table, dresser, and multiple lamps, but he had added a small beanbag chair and a basket filled with blankets set in the corner. He had also replaced all the white lightbulbs with softer colored ones, a slight change but very effective to the mood of the space. 

Overall it contained very few items and changes to the plain college provided setup, but it still oozed a type of rec room vibe. 

“You need to be on one of those house makeover shows.” He sniffed and whirled around to face Newt again. “Anyways, we’re going out for drinks later. Wanna tag along?”

“Who’s designated driver this week again?”

Minho looked up and thought about it for a good, hard, second. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in intense thought and his eyes narrowed slightly. Newt already knew the answer to his question but watching Minho solve memory inquires was one of the most entertaining things ever. The guy had an amazing memory when it came to equations and spacial shit, but when it came to what he ate for breakfast? He couldn’t recall for the life of him.  When he turned to look at Newt again his eyes were still a bit unfocused. “I think it's maybe - might be - is probably Teresa.” 

Newt snorted and looked away for a split second in amusement. 

“How the fuck are you a Physics major?” He muttered to himself and then turned back to Minho. “Hell no. Teresa is the craziest driver I’ve ever known and when I’m drunk I can’t tell her the speed limit is half of what she's going. I’ll pass.” 

Minho shrugged with an amused smile stretched easily across his face, the faraway look in his eyes clearing up subtlety. “Suit yourself.” 

He strolled out of the room with a quick goodbye and Newt looked after him with a smile and a quizzical look. “How the fuck is he a Physics major?” He asked himself once again before getting consumed in his pre-college chores.

~1~

Newt closed his eyes, preventing him from reading his book, and massaged his temples lightly. He had developed a headache from all the rereading he had had to do due to his inability to concentrate. His thoughts kept cycling back to Thomas and how he wondered about it the simple things about the boy. Has his scent changed? What’s his major? Does he still sleep around as much as he used to? All the questions above and hundreds more related ricocheted around in his head, making his concentration shaky at best. 

He glanced at the clock sitting atop his desk and almost cried. He had stayed up until nearly one in the morning thinking of Thomas Clark. 

His movements were sharp and swift as he turned off the light and rolled over to sleep.  

~1~

Newt had just drifted off into a bone-softeningly warm sleep when he heard the noise of his creaky room door opening. He moved up out of bed, resting on his elbows, to see a figure hesitating outside the now ajar entryway. Newt moved to sit more upright and pressed the ends of his palms into his eyes before twisting to turn on his sidelight. “Minho I know you get lonely after you drink but its three in the fucking morning.” 

Newt turned back to the door in order to face who was standing in the doorway. Upon seeing who it was his eyes widened and he held back a yelp of surprise.

“Minho gets lonely when he’s drunk?” 

_Thomas fucking Clark._

Newt took in his charismatically ruffled dark hair and gleeful eyes with a shocked expression written across his face that he was unaware he was even making. Without any realization, Newt was staring at the boy he hadn’t seen for a year and was terribly attracted to. He had always loved the spray of cute moles that adorned his face, and his constantly wind-ruffled hair. His honey brown eyes were one of Newt’s favorite features because of how they fucking _glittered_ in the sun as if they were delicious, golden, honeycombs. He continued taking in every feature of the brunette thirstily until his eyes traveled down to Thomas’s peach-pink lips and he wondered lightly what it would be like to kiss and bite at them, and if they were nearly as supple or smooth as they seemed to be. 

A stark snap broke him out of his stupor and he looked dazedly up at Thomas who had closed the door of the room and was now looming over Newt. 

“You okay?” He asked with a humorous and knowing smile painted on his face. 

Newt swallowed and reprimanded himself for being so ditzy. 

“Fine - you know it’s like three A.M, right?”

“It’s more like two actually-”

“So what the fuck are you doing here?” Newt tried to keep the excitement out of his voice and turn it into irritation. 

Thomas shrugged and simply answered, “I had a late flight and I like the West Coast, so I came early.” 

Newt blinked at him slowly a couple of times before questioning, “How the fuck did you get in here?”

Thomas turned away from him and began carrying his boxes into the inner interconnected room while answering smoothly, “Minho let me in and you left the door unlocked.” 

Newt looked to the picture he had of his friend group on his side table and glared at the waving Minho in the photograph. _Fuck you._ He thought spitefully at the picture.  

“You should really lock the door considering you're in the outer room,” Thomas called from his space, his own door swung wide open. 

“It wouldn’t matter considering you’re going to have a key,” Newt called back to him and added quickly after, “And I didn’t mean to leave it open anyways.”

_Liar_ , his mind taunted him. _You left it open in hopes he’d come early._ Newt shook his head to disassemble the thought and prayed it was untrue. 

Thomas popped his head into Newts room and explained, “Not to keep me out, the others in the building.” 

Newt’s mind blanked and then he realized what Thomas had really meant by his statement. _Of course he didn’t mean_ him, _you moron._ Instead of acknowledging the response fully he simply grunted and rolled over so that he wasn’t facing Thomas. However, Newt quickly realized his light was blaring down on his face, making sunspots dance behind his eyes that prevented him from falling asleep. He was tempted to turn off the lamp and leave Thomas in the darkness to fend for himself because after all, ‘survival of the fittest,’ but instead he left it on, having a dizzying feeling of not wanting to be mean to Thomas Clark. 

With the soft rustling sounds coming from Thomas’s room and his overall lack of energy to stay awake, Newt slowly started drifting off to sleep once again, an irritated thought of, _Can he not wait to unpack his shit?_ Still clinging to his mind.  

~1~

Newt awoke to the feathery sound of the shower running and was confused for a few mere seconds before groaning and remembering he was no longer alone in his dorm room.

 Freshman year Newt was required to use shared bathrooms throughout the entire dorm building, and he couldn’t decide whether it was worse having to share a shower with his high school crush, or his whole class. 

He determined it was probably the former, and groggily rose out of bed to check his phone which he knew was probably exploding with drunk texts from Minho, and distress texts from Teresa. 

_Minho: dude,,,, surface tension is such bullshit_

_Teresa: Newton William Finnegan get your ass over here right now I cannot deal with these goddamn Millennials._

  _Minho: btw teresa is mad @ me for stealing her gum and i need backup please_

_Teresa: He stole my fucking gum Newt. MY GUM DAMNIT_

Newt scoffed at their texts and responded to them with multiple shrugging emojis, knowing full well they would not be awake to answer them. 

The distinct sound of the shower stopping rang out and Newt held his breath. 

He cursed the administration for assigning him the outer room. They couldn’t have given him the littlest bit of relief by doing such a simple feat, couldn’t they? A minute passed with Newt standing breathlessly at his desk, waiting for Thomas to come out so he could quietly avert his eyes and go on with his goddamn day. 

He heard the creak of a door opening and saw the steam escape out of the bathroom from the corner of his eye, clouding and twisting until it disappeared into the high air. Newt’s eyes stared harshly at his desk as he heard approaching footsteps, preventing him from glancing at Thomas’s likely exposed skin. He mumbled a ‘good morning’ as he leaned over his desk stiffly. 

A morning reply reached his ears, but it was drowned out by a downy touch that passed lightly over his shoulder blade.  

Newt shuddered at the burning sensation of Thomas’s warm hands running across his back, and the strong scent of sharp teakwood that wafted through the heavy air. He had the carnal urge to grab Thomas’s wrist in order to either pull him back or punch him in the jaw. He considered that both of the options would end up with Thomas despising him, so he simply stood there and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the other boy to close the door connecting their rooms. 

The harsh click of the door never came. 

He turned to face the doorway, checking to see if he was simply too wrapped up in his urges and missed the closing of the door. When he locked eyes with a shirtless Thomas Clark, he could, in fact, deduce that the door was not closed. Newt quickly averted his eyes and tried to cough but found his throat was far too dry for the action. After a moment more he briskly walked over to the door and shut it in an irate fashion, barely catching sight of a smirking brunette on the other side.                                                                                                

~1~

“And then he left his fucking door open. Who the fuck _does_ that?” Newt finished angrily to Minho and Teresa, sipping on his chai tea with hardened glaring eyes. He snapped towards Minho who flinched. “And I can’t believe you opened the fucking door for him.” 

“Firstly, I was drunk and secondly, it’s half your fault for leaving your own door unlocked.”

Newt narrowed his eyes at him in response and sipped at his tea again. 

“Wait so let me get this straight,” Teresa interrupted with a confused look that was aimed at the table, a sign of intense thinking. “You liked this guy for at least three years, found out he was going to the same college as you, managed to ignore him for an entire year even though he and Minho are super close, and then got stuck with him as a roommate?”

When she was met with silence she knew her following was indefinitely correct and she continued, “Do you even understand how statistically significant that p-value is?”

Minho snorted and said into his iced coffee. “Fuckin’ statistics nerd.” 

Teresa pointed at him with an amused glare and countered, “Shut up, you’re a goddamn physics major.”

 As they bickered back and forth Newt sighed happily across his mug, glad that he could at least escape Thomas in their goto coffee shop.  

“Anyways,” Minho said, putting an end to their daily ‘no you’re a nerd’ argument, “Are you going to go to administration?”

Newts smile dropped again and he answered, “No. I can’t file a sufficient complaint.” 

“Or you don’t want to,” Teresa said from behind her steamer with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

Newt rolled his eyes, flushing slightly at the truth in the accusation. “Please. I ignored the guy for an entire year.” 

“While dating guys that resembled him in some way,” Minho added with a face that mimicked Teresa’s.  

Newt’s cheeks blazed cerise against his skin tone and he felt his face heat up under their incriminating gazes. “I have no idea what you two are going on about,” he responded simply and looked away from them as they shared a smug and knowing look.  

Teresa leaned back in her chair with a smirk still set on her lips. “Oh, you’ve got it so bad Newty-Boy.” 

Minho nodded. “Doesn’t he? It’s so painfully obvious.” 

“I can tell,” she responded and focused on Newt with piercing eyes. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

Newt floundered under her gaze and after taking another embarrassed sip of his chai replied, “Because he sleeps around a lot and I could never date someone like that.” 

“That is a pretty valid statement,” Minho added. 

Teresa gave him a curt nod in understanding and went back to drinking her vanilla beverage. 

They were silent for a few comfortable moments until Minho stood up suddenly after checking his phone. His face was worried and he looked as if something he had seen deemed the sky was falling. 

“Shit how is it already two? I have to meet my mom for lunch in like five minutes and you know how my mom feels about being late to shit.”

Teresa and Newt both shivered. 

“If I could forget, it would be a blessing,” Newt said with a faraway gaze. 

Minho laughed, quickly collected his things into his leather satchel, and walked out of the cafe with a plain wave of goodbye. 

A silence hung between the two, and Teresa could feel the anticipation in Newts next careful words.  

“Hey, Terse,” Newt voiced quietly after Minho had long gone.

She responded with a hum of acknowledgment and Newt continued. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He looked up at her from his tea with a silent look of desperation and exhaustion. “I spent an entire year trying to forget him and now I can’t escape him.” 

Teresa gave him a look of sympathy - Newt was quite tired of the look but appreciated it nonetheless - and reached to grab his hand, her eyes piercing into him once more. “It’s not the end of the world, Newt. And besides, you’ll find someone else eventually.”

Newt left the coffee shop with the disorienting yet familiar feeling that he didn’t _want_ to find someone else. 

~1~

When Newt entered his dorm room he was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Thomas’s door was still closed and he hoped silently that he wasn’t in the dorm at all. 

Deciding that it was rather probable he wasn’t, Newt shed his clothing and walked into the bathroom, bringing a fresh pair of boxers with him. He made sure to lock the door behind him and started the shower, adjusting the cold water so it would slightly overtake the hot. As Newt stepped into the spray of liquid he shivered at the feeling of the lukewarm water drumming against his skin. The warmth reminded him of his morning endeavor with Thomas - although his hand was much hotter - and he felt another shudder ripple through him. 

He wanted to relive that moment over and over again only to feel the warmth and exhilaration that Thomas’s light touch supplied him with. He loved that feeling. The satisfaction that came from it was so refreshing, and yet the hunger for more it also produced was overpowering. Newt felt as if he could never get enough of that delicious touch now that he’s experienced it, and that terrified him to no end. He knew that he would never be able to forget that simple brush across his shoulder or the tantalizing smell that followed. It gave him so much craving for more, to inhale that piercingly fresh scent, to consume as much of Thomas Clark as he could.  

It seemed so easy now that he was away from the situation, to grab Thomas and taste him like he had longed to for so long now. The courage he had to seduce him when he was away from the boy was flustering and he wished it could exist in himself when he _was_ with the brunette. 

He loved that touch. He needed that again, he knew he did, but he couldn’t admit it to himself. If he did give in to the intoxication of Thomas Clark, he’d be starting from square one and square one fucking _hurt._ Square one meant the pining started all over again and Newt didn’t know if he had the energy to be so affected by one single person all over again. He didn’t know if he had a choice either. 

A tired breath exhaled from his lips as he twisted the water off. He walked out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry himself off, slowly working his way up until he reached his hair which he rubbed over wildly. After tugging on his cotton boxer-briefs and hanging his towel up to dry, he unlocked the bathroom door and strode into his room. 

Immediately he noticed the open door and he scowled at it in annoyance. Newt made a brisk walk to his dresser to tug on a nightshirt before moving to address the ajar connecting door. As he reached to close it he saw Thomas reading on his bed with a pair as glasses balancing on his face. 

Newt didn’t even know he was staring until Thomas looked up at him. The movement broke Newt’s trance and he shot the other boy a short glare before closing the door with a pleasantly loud click, his face crimson red and feverish. 

_I should not be this worked up over someone,_ he scolded himself. Needing an immediate outlet, Newt picked up his phone. 

_Newt: Anyone know any good places to bury a body_

_Gally: I mean theres a shallow river nearby_

_Minho: bruh thatd take too long and itd be suuuuuppper annoying_

_Minho: we could empty out someones grave_

_Gally: Thats just as much effort_

_Teresa: I love how you two don’t question why._

_Newt: True loyalty right there_

_Minho: well i already know who were burying so ;)_

_Newt: Leave._

_Gally: Is it the roommate??_

_Teresa: Thomas is his name._

_Gally: Oh wait thats the dude who Newt was avoiding last year right?_

_Minho: correct_

_Gally: Lmao what are the actual chances?_

_Newt: Its not funny_

_Teresa: They’re pretty fuckin’ low._

_Newt: STOP_  

_Minho: yeah you missed our discussion bout the guy_

_Minho: and teresa being a nerd_

_Gally: Cant say im disappointed_  

_Teresa: Minho you were ranting about surface tension last night stfu._

_Minho: i was drunk that doesnt count_

 Newt snickered at their instant flow of conversation. 

His eyes trailed over to the door between the rooms, checking if it was still closed.  

The white wood of the object stared back at him, tightly shut and solid, and he felt a pang of disappointment. _You’re the one who closed it,_ his mind taunted him and he wished deeply that he hadn’t.  

He wished he had the courage to open the door and tell Thomas what he felt for him.  

He wished he had the strength to leave the entryway ajar and not regret what could come afterward. 

But he didn’t.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hullo, sorry you had to read that last chapter it was uh 
> 
> we don’t speak of it.

Newt was pretty sure, at this point, that the world was torturing him. 

Slowly, and painfully torturing him. 

He hated it. He hated that he was back to feeling these degrading emotions, he hated how much he wanted Thomas to touch him again, and he sure as hell hated his fucking morning showers. Although, waking up to the light drill of water was very soothing, and it made Newt feel even sleepier. It reminded him of a metallic rain sound, and he loved the rain. That was the entire reason he applied to schools on the West Coast, because of the rain. He cherished how it made everything greener and _alive._ He lived for the soft pattering and the feathery pounding of the droplets, and even though his friends had gotten sick of it and yearned for more sunny days, he could never get sick of the rain. 

 The smell of wet leaves and earth made him relax in a certain satisfactory way that was hard to explain to anyone who hadn’t loved it as he did. His mother had understood. She had worshiped it as he had and could comprehend his inexplicable decisions of why he loved it. 

Thomas smelled like rain. 

Newt had noticed that when he had first met him. A delicious and enticing mixture of teakwood and rain. 

When Newt sat up, eyes droopy and hair ruffled from sleeping with it wet, the piercing scent consumed him. He realized faintly it was raining out as well, but most of his attention was focused on trying to revel in and memorize the divine fragrance of Thomas Clark. Newt could not give in to this boy. He could not succumb to the charismatic smiles and the soft eyes for the second time in a row but he couldn’t help it. Something just _drew_ Newt to Thomas. Tempted him into returning to the decision that yes, he liked this boy. Thomas was so irresistible, so delectable that Newt couldn’t stop restoring these ridiculous feelings for him. It was perfectly maddening. Beautifully, even. 

The abrupt ring of the shower stopping made Newts heart stutter, and he had the sudden urge to hide under his covers as if he were four again. He was scared of seeing someone that had such a strong effect on him. He was scared of everything that could happen if he saw him more and more frequently, of what he would do once this crush finally drove him mad. Newt wanted to hold on to this brief period of time where he hadn’t been thinking about Thomas. Where it was just him and the drowsy rain. But he knew that that moment had never really existed. He had always been thinking about Thomas. He was always in the back of his mind waiting for a moment to pounce. Seconds more passed of Newt holding his breath, waiting for a sight he was trying to convince himself that didn’t want to see. 

There was absolutely no escape as the door pushed open and out stepped the brunette. Newt’s head was spinning. He drooled over Thomas when the boy was fully clothed and now he had to stare at him with a towel hung far too low on his hips. Newt felt as if he could do both anything and nothing at all. He felt brave enough to scramble out of bed and press his lips to Thomas’s collarbones. His hands longed to press against that warm skin and explore whatever they could. 

He stayed frozen in his place, the repercussions of doing as he wished too great and hanging over his head threateningly. 

He barely managed to mutter a good morning as he stared at the abs on this boy. _When the fuck does he have the time for abs?_ _And why do I want to lick them?_ He already knew the answer to the latter, but he preferred not to dwell on thinking about why he wanted to drag his tongue over someone's abs. 

 Slowly, Newt realized that Thomas was speaking to him. More than just a ‘good morning’ kind of speaking, like, engaging in a conversation speaking. Newt willed himself to ignore the water dripping off Thomas’s skin and focus on what he was saying. 

“-girls over, and since you’re in the outer room...” 

 _Oh._ Newt held back a scowl at the comment and felt a thrum of jealousy in his stomach. It made him sick. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to forget how beautiful Thomas’s shoulders were and remembering he’d never get to touch them in his lifetime. Even if he did get the chance he wouldn’t be able to worship them like he wanted to. To kiss them and lick them in demanding and loving ways. Oh, how lucky those unknowing girls were to be seen as attractive to Thomas Clarke. 

“As long as you text me it’s fine.” He responded, his eyes no longer locked with Thomas’s. He had never been a very good liar, his eyes had always betrayed him. Thomas had never known him very well but he’d rather not risk the awkward follow up they’d have to have if the brunette thought he was uncomfortable with the idea. 

“Your number hasn’t changed since junior year right?” 

Newt quickly looked up at Thomas again, a confused expression upon his face and his lies long forgotten. “You have my number?” 

 He made a sound of confirmation and shrugged. “Minho gave it to me. Can’t remember why.” 

 Newt remembered at the mere mention of Minho.  He had gone to a party Thomas had thrown way back when. He didn’t remember anything that had happened considering he was thoroughly drunk the entire time but he remembered being invited by Thomas himself. The simple message had made Newts day. He had been ecstatic. 

Newt’s eyes clouded and he shrugged, looking away from him again. “Me neither.” 

 

~2~

 

The soft thrum of conversation and paperwork had Newt sighing in relief. The amount of relaxation the cafe could give him was a bit concerning, but any moment away from Thomas - even better, not thinking about him - was a moment to cherish in Newt’s book. Even if he had to deal with the somewhat irritating talk Teresa and Minho seemed to provide to him. 

 “Gally’s on his way to Oorvallis as we speak,” Teresa said, her eyes sparked with excitement. That was always an easy way to translate what Teresa was feeling: through her eyes. She did have - by far - the scariest ones Newt had ever seen and they managed to see _everything._ The amount of perception the girl had was slightly concerning, and the unsparing reprimands that she gave out under those piercing orbs were almost worse than Newt’s fathers. 

 “And let me guess,” Newt responded smugly, moving his mug in a slow, circular motion, causing his green tea to swirl around. “He’s bringing all kinds of alcohol.”  

Gally was the only junior in their friend group - the rest of them had obtained fake IDs through one way or another - meaning he supplied them with most of the alcohol they drank when not at some nightclub. It helped not only because Gally’s parents were absolutely loaded, but also because his father was the owner of a liquor store in Oortland. Gally’s parents always had a spat about heavy drinking when Gally asked for a bottle of liquor, but in the end, his father would always sneakily give a bottle to his son and wink while his mother was turned away. 

Teresa hummed in gleeful confirmation. “You can bet your ass he is. Moonshine, wine, tequila. Enough to last an entire semester and then some.” She talked of the liquids with such desire in her eyes one would think they were delectable food items, and to a couple of poor college kids why wouldn’t they be? Teresa had always been overly fond of drinking and it made her quite the cranky designated driver. Seeing Minho down three shots of tequila while she was stuck drinking orange juice was probably the only way in all of existence to make her jealous. 

“Administration just told me my roommate wouldn’t be showing up this year so I have a whole room open for the semester.” She waggled her eyebrows at them and then giggled devilishly.  

“Tonight’s going to be fun. What with babysitting you guys and all,” Newt replied looking down into his cup.

“If anyone needs to be drinking tonight it’s you, mate,” Minho voiced, a laugh caught in his flippant tone. 

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Newt questioned, his eyes twinkling with amusement as his head snapped back to look at Minho. 

He and Teresa shared a knowing look before gingerly going back to sip at their drinks, humor alight on their facial expressions - though they were trying not to let it slip through. Newt rolled his eyes and huffed at them. He had been trying to forget what they were referring to all morning and although it helped that they were making witty jokes about it, they still reminded him of what waited for him back at his dorm. 

“At least that means I don’t have to put up with Teresa’s crazy driving skills,” Newt added after a little while, trying to gain an act of small revenge on her comments. 

Her mouth dropped in offended awe. “How dare you insult my top-notch driving.” 

“Terse, you made two illegal U-turns last time I went out with you driving. God knows what you did just a day ago.” 

“Luckily, Minho was too drunk to notice,” she responded, chin tipped up slightly to aid her triumphant tone.

Newt rolled his eyes, trying to conceal a smile while Minho snickered at their bickering. When Newt’s eyes cut over to him, Minho knew there was a dig coming. 

“What’re you laughing at alcoholic?” 

Minho’s flashed with mischief and he looked at Newt with intent eyes. “Careful, Newty. I’m not afraid to invite Thomas to this little rendezvous we’re having.” 

Newt’s smile dropped and he narrowed his eyes. He knew Minho was joking, but the sudden drop of tone and the look in his dark eyes said otherwise. A malicious look crossed his face. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said slowly, almost staging a threat. 

Minho leaned in, his elbows and forearms laid flat against the table to give him leverage. “I dare.”  

They continued to stare at one another, threat glimmering in their eyes until Teresa broke down laughing and they both joined her in the simple mirth of the action. 

 

~2~

 

 _Newt: I’m sorry, why the fuck do we have to take_ my _car?_

  _Teresa: You’re the only one who owns one, dumbass._

 _Minho: teresa doesnt have to drive,,,,_  

_Newt: Good point_

_Newt: Guess we’re taking my car_

A chuckle escaped from Newt’s lips as he tugged the door shut to his dorm. He hesitated a moment before closing it, remembering Thomas’s absence. The energy of the dorm was so drastically different when Thomas wasn’t in it. It was just so… lonely. _That should be a good thing,_ he thought spitefully. But it wasn’t. His absence marked the sign of him being out somewhere, saying he was most definitely bringing some doe-eyed blondie back home with him when he was done getting inebriated off his ass. How Newt longed to be that blonde, if only for a night. He’d give so much to have Thomas’s hands sliding over his skin. His breath against his cheek. He wanted to be someone who Thomas could find himself attracted to even if he has no want for commitment. He wanted at least _that_ small reassurement. Newt huffed in frustration at his wandering mind and shut the door forcefully, his blood boiling in hot envy and anger. 

He stomped down his dorm building’s steps and around to the student parking lot where Minho was already waiting for him. The boy stood there leaning heavily against the green Uubaru’s passenger side. He looked up from his phone when he heard Newt approaching and quickly gained an amused smirk at the blonde’s expression. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Minho asked as Newt drew closer. 

Newt waited until he had walked around Minho and to the driver’s side to answer. “You have no idea.” 

They ducked into the vehicle, Newts face still grim and Minho thoroughly enjoying his irritable mood. Newt exhaled before starting up the car and making his way out of the school parking lot. 

“We’re picking Terse up at the coffee shop right?” Newt asked, already making the turn towards it. 

“I think so,” Minho replied. He shivered and rubbed his arms. Newt could already hear the complaint. 

“Why is this car _always_ a freaking icebox? Its sixty goddamn degrees outside.”

“And I’m wearing two sweaters,” Newt pulled up to the cafe and took out his phone to shoot a text at Teresa. “I drive you guys around all the time. You should know to bring an extra jumper by now.” 

Minho shook his head and waved at Teresa as she stepped out of the cafe. She immediately made a bee-line towards the car and got into the passengers side swiftly. 

“Hey, Terse?” Newt asked as soon as she got in.

“What?” she responded while buckling her seatbelt. 

“Did you remember your Uubaru Sweater?” 

She looked up at him with a confused face and started rummaging through her bag to find it. “Of course, why? 

Newt turned to look at Minho, an unsaid ‘See?’ shining in his smug eyes.  

Minho rolled his eyes and reached to turn on his seat warmer. 

Newt and Teresa shared a smirk in the rearview mirror before they pulled out and started driving to the Oorvallis airport.   


        The second Gally stepped out of the building doors all three friends were out of the car and hugging him tightly. 

“You guys, my ribs are going to fall out of my throat.” he managed to choke out as they practically strangled his abdomen. 

“Shush, you’re the tallest and therefore best to hug,” Teresa said against his side. 

When they all detangled Gally smiled at them. “I missed you guys too.”

“You better have,” Newt threatened. “How was Eeorgia?” 

 They made their walk to the car as Gally responded, “Tiring as fuck. Who knew keeping up a peach farm for your in-laws was so exhausting?”

“Who would’ve guessed?” Minho said smartly as he opened the passengers' side door. 

 Newt wished the drive had been longer. Not having Gally around felt as if he was missing a whole arm, and fifteen minutes was not enough time to regain the feeling of being whole. It was not enough time to laugh and talk wildly with his friends. It was not enough time to remember nostalgic past events. It was not enough time to take absolute delight in each other’s resolved company. 

And it was certainly not enough time to make Newt forget as he pulled into the college parking lot, the stars twinkling outside happily to compliment the clear night, that he wanted to fuck his roommate. 

They all made their way to the mailroom, impatient and chattering excitedly. 

“I cannot wait to get plastered. I haven’t been drunk all summer,” Teresa started, body curled to spring in giddy gestures.  

“That should be a good thing,” Newt said with an eyebrow quirked as Gally used his I.D. to open his building’s doors. 

“For Terse? It's devastating,” Gally responded before the girl could properly defend herself. 

“It is, actually, thank you for noticing.”  

The walk to the mailroom was spent in companionable silence until Gally announced, “My dad shipped all the alcohol with my dorm stuff, so we’ll drop it off and then take it straight to Teresa’s.” He winked at her and waltzed into the room, swooping up one of the boxes under his name as Minho did the same with the other. 

 “Who’s your dorm mate this year anyways?” Newt asked after placing down the bag he was carrying in Gally’s dorm and glancing into the other room. 

Gally rolled his eyes, shuffling through his stuff to find the bottles of liquid bravery. “Some guy named Ben, English major. Fucking nerd.” 

“Gally we’re all STEM majors. You have no right,” Minho reminded him, pulling out a jar of pineapple moonshine and inspecting it. 

 Teresa laughed against the doorpost and agreed, “Gotcha there.” 

After putting all the alcohol into one moving box they left with it in Gally’s arms, all of them insanely excited and already giggly. As they walked, they passed Newt’s dorm he had a last-minute thought to leave Thomas a note and was so very tempted not to but he knew that he should, though it was really none of Thomas’s business where he was. He groaned and turned to Minho to tell him where he was going before running off to his building, Minho’s protests inaudible. 

Newt slipped quietly through the front doors and up to his dorm room, impatience running through him. He unlocked the door to his room and leaned over his desk to frantically write a few words on a sticky note when he heard a low moan from the other side of the door. His cheeks pricked with heat as he realized that for the first time Thomas had closed the interconnecting door. Slowly, he tiptoed over to the white wood and put his ear to it before he even knew what he was doing. Whines and all octaves of moans reverberated in the other room, accompanied by the slap of skin against skin. 

Newt scrambled away from the door as if it had burned him. It took him a few breaths more to become hotter and more flustered with anger. He scowled and finished his note, slapping it harshly unto the bathroom door. _Fucking doe-eyed blondes,_ he thought spitefully as he hastily ran out of the room, ire coloring his cheeks and neck. It was barely ten o’clock and Thomas was already up to his usual antics. What had Newt expected? 

Minho gave him a pointed look when he returned. “Everything okay?” 

  
It took a significant amount of strength for Newt not to grind his teeth together, but he managed. “Let’s just say I don’t want to be sober right now.” 

Teresa’s shout of triumph echoed around the entire campus. 

 

~2~

 

“You know, one of these days I’m going to forget to bring my shot glasses, and all of y’all are gonna be up shit creek without a paddle.” 

“Yes Teresa, we know. We’re all lost without you, now can you please go get them?” Gally flashed her a look and she was looking through her desk with a huff.  

“So, what should we start with?” Teresa asked as she set the four glasses down and sat down on the floor of her dorm with the rest of the group. 

 “I vote moonshine. That shit is disgusting,” Minho said with his nose scrunched up in dislike.  

“Dude, pineapple moonshine is great. The hell are you talking about?” Gally responded already grabbing the jar to pour their shots. 

“As long as I never have to touch that tequila, I’m good,” Newt remarked, inspecting the dusty yellow liquor in his glass. 

Teresa snickered at him. “Don’t want a rerun of that frat party huh?” 

Newt shook his head. “I’m never trusting Alpha Gamma Gamma again. They’re all assholes.” 

Gally tipped his head and reached for his shot. “Most frat boys are. No offense Minho.” 

“Yeah, Yeah, we all know I’d die for Kappa Sigma now can we please just take this goddamn shot?”

 They all smirked at each other and then Teresa was barking, “Zebra stripes,”

“Down the pipes,” They all responded in time and Newt felt the scold of liquor down his throat. 

 

This was a bad decision. 

  
  
  


 

  
  


  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me if you guys want longer chapters i know this ones kinda short. i just really need to post SOMETHING since its been a month


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i barely edited this jesus lord i need a beta  
> yall are gonna question my slow-burn tag for this chapter but trust me, we've gotta long way to go
> 
> enjoy!

Five shots into the night, Newt had enough common sense to stop. His friends, however, did not. To be fair, Teresa was only tipsy at shot three and Minho has always been _such_ a lightweight and never knew when to stop. Gally had stopped after shot one like the smart boy he was, and eventually, he was the only person able to tell them to stop because he did _not_ plan on calling an ambulance tonight. They pouted at him and told him he was mean in puffy voices but forgot about it not even two minutes later. 

Newt was a very… unique type of drunk. Unless you knew or saw he had been drinking most would never know he was intoxicated at all. Anyone who didn’t know him very well needed physical proof to believe he was drunk. Teresa has told him multiple times just how creepy it is and Minho just pokes and laughs at him like the mean asshole he is. The only way you could ever tell Newt was drunk was by his slight slur, his flirting, and his decision-making skills. The latter has always been the main reason why Newt doesn’t usually drink until he’s plastered. Yes, the average person doesn’t have great judgment after drinking either, but Newt was apparently not the average person. His judgment wasn’t even shaky, it was practically non-existent. Combine that with his flirting habits…

Although, Newt has always said drinking without someone to flirt with is never fun. Fortunately, he’s never been attracted to any of the friends in his inner friend group. Unfortunately, sometimes that doesn’t always translate into not being attracted to them _while intoxicated._ More often than not he’d end up with mysterious hickeys by the end of the night. Thankfully, they had established a rule of not leaving them in obvious places so he never got called out in public for them. Thank you, Teresa. 

He has at least ten seconds before the last two shots have hit him so he stands to put away the glasses and jar of liquor. When he turns back to the three morons they’re sprawled across Teresa’s bed and beckoning Newt over so they can play Never Have I Ever. Yes, it’s their goto game for getting drunk and yes, Newt enjoys it more than he should but he’s still not intoxicated enough to register this under the good idea column. He sits down and holds up his hand with all five fingers outstretched. As Teresa thinks up something she’s never done Newt can feel the last two shots hit him and Lord, this was a bad idea. 

Scratch that, now it’s suddenly the best idea he’s ever had. 

Teresa wins the game but only through targeting people, and by then Newt’s rationality has flown out the window and right into the sunset. Gally is the only person relatively sober right now, his excuse being that he did not want to be drunk after getting off a five-hour flight, so he decided to try and sleep. 

_Try._

Minho lays down over Gally’s assumed sleeping body and starts rambling about meaningless things as he tends to do after ingesting booze, and Teresa goes right along after him. They start arguments and poke at each other haphazardly but Newt isn’t sober enough to care. Until they start teasing him about Thomas. 

Minho prodes at his hands and talks about how gay Newt is for him and Teresa snickers between saying estimated numbers of how many times Newt has jacked off to him but Newt isn’t embarrassed like he usually is. He just sits there and nods and agrees to everything they’re saying without making any noises whatsoever and eventually, it freaks Teresa the fuck out. 

“See, this is why I’m so fast - fac - fuck. _Fascinated_ with drunk Newt. He’s almost more human when he’s drunk.” She stumbles over her words and pokes at her tongue, saying it ‘feels thick’ while Minho just giggles and nods along with her accusations. 

“It is just a _tiny_ bit unsettling,” Minho replies, dragging on the vowel with a high pitched voice. 

Newt has a lazy smile on his face and is about to reply when a brilliant idea pops into his head. 

“Do you guys remember that game we played last year at Gally’s birthday party?” 

Teresa perks up instantly at the mention of it, and Gally perks up at his name being said. “Moan the bottle?”

Gally groans as Minho makes a sound of remembrance. It had become a signature game of Gally’s parties and although it was so juvenile at some point it became fun. The basic rules of the game were the exact same as spin the bottle but instead of a simple kiss, you had to make the person moan. It was really quite ridiculous but was probably the cause of about fifty percent of Newt’s past hookups. 

“I need another shot for this shit,” Gally says as he slides off the bed, giving up on sleep and going back to the bookshelf where Newt had stowed the liquor. 

“Newt ended up fucking that sorority girl last time we played this,” Minho recalls excitedly, dragging out a few of his words in a very inebriated fashion. 

Newt laughs as Gally takes another swig of moonshine. “Her name was… actually what was her name?”

“Hell if I know,” Gally replies from the back of the room.

“It was _your_ party,” Teresa points out. 

“And as the birthday boy, it was my responsibility to get shitfaced.” He drops back down on the bed with an empty beer bottle and Teresa’s lap desk. 

They all take another gulp of liquor and set it back down to the ground after. 

Newt could feel his inhibitions leave him at the last shot and suddenly he really needed to see Thomas. He wanted to drag his hands over that smooth skin and kiss every mole along the way. Fuck. 

“Who’s going first?” Teresa asks as her torso hangs off the side of the bed. 

“You just volunteered,” Minho says in between giggles. 

Teresa grumbles about it but has an easy smile on her face as she sits up to grasp the bottle and spin it as fast as possible. It takes half a minute for the flask to slow down but when it does she makes an irritated sound in the back of her throat. “Can I spin again?”

“What the fuck’s wrong with me?” Newt asks, highly amused and acting offended.  

Teresa turns to him slowly and with a glare. “You’re so hard to please. It’s like making out with your coked-up dad.” 

Minho and Gally burst out laughing at her comment and start making remarks of just how accurate her statement is. 

Newt just scoffs at her and grumbles of how untrue it is and before he can react Teresa is mouthing at the base of his neck. She moves her body in time with the movements of her mouth and how hard she bites down and if Newt were even remotely into Teresa, it’d be mad hot. 

But he just isn't. 

And while he has an attractive distraction sucking on his ear all he can think about is Thomas. He’s not angry anymore about the girl. Although he _had_ forgotten about texting Newt beforehand. He’s not upset though. He’s just sick with envy. That lucky girl got to experience Thomas’s smooth hands sliding across her skin. Got to experience his terribly hot open-mouthed kisses and the feeling of being dominated by him. 

Those are the thoughts that get Newt to moan. Not Teresa’s tongue swirling on the base of his neck, but the thought that he could be doing that to Thomas _right now._  

Teresa rushes back with a whoop of victory after hearing the low sound that had escaped Newt’s throat, and Gally and Minho start clapping slowly like the bumbling morons they are. Newt doesn’t give her a chance to start bragging though. He’s already up and off of the bed by the time she turns back to him yelling back some lame excuse of being tired and going to bed before fluidly leaving and closing the door behind him.  

The walk across campus was brisk and too chilly, even for Newt. He was getting increasingly impatient as he fumbled with his keycard to get into the building and once he finally manages to, he really hopes that girl is gone. The amount of disappointment it would give him to know that she and Thomas were still together would be immeasurable. He takes the stairs two at a time, even though it strains his leg, and breathes in when he finally reaches the door. As the door swings open and Newt steps in, he hears the shower running. When he looks over to see if Thomas’s door is closed, he sees it’s wide open and no one is on the other side. 

He sends a silent prayer up to whatever deity made this possible and moves to pull off his clothing for a more comfortable set instead. Mere seconds after his shirt is pulled over his head, Thomas is walking out of the bathroom. He freezes when he sees Newt in front of him and Newt revels in the full attention of Thomas. And when Thomas subtly checks him out, Newt _preens,_ because goddamnit why does he never notice these things unless he’s drunk? 

They stand there staring at one another until Thomas clears his throat. “I got your note,” he says with slightly flushed cheeks. 

“Well since it was on the bathroom door, I would assume so.” Newt takes a step closer and tries to pretend it wasn’t intentional. 

He just _wants_ damnit. 

And what drunk Newt wants, he gets. 

Thomas nods and reaches to curl a hand around the nape of his neck. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t text you about the chick.”

Newt ignores the pull in his chest and takes another step closer. “Don’t worry about it.” 

The silence that followed hung heavy like fog between the two of them. Both of them were so unsure of what to do or what to say, but at least Newt knew what he _wanted_ to do. And when Newt takes another step forward he can tell Thomas notices this time but fuck he’s impatient and instead of taking a slower approach he moves quickly towards the brunette. As Newt leans to suck on smooth shoulders, Thomas’s hand is wrapping around his waist and pulling him in, whimpering slightly at the open-mouthed kisses Newt is laying across his collarbones. 

 _Fuck_ this is exactly what Newt wanted tonight. To leave hickeys all over someone he’s wanted to for five years now. 

But before he can revel in it too much Thomas is scooping him off his feet in one fluid motion. Newt immediately locks his legs around Thomas’s middle, and when Thomas starts sucking on Newt’s neck, that’s when it’s all over. His skin feels extra sensitive due to the amount of liquor he’s consumed, and when Thomas swirls his tongue across Newt’s collarbone, he can’t help the moan that escapes from his lips. Newt is so glad he is not rational right now, otherwise, this would not be happening. He’s half-convinced he’s dreaming but Thomas’s warm hands sliding up and down the sides of his waist compel him to think that’s not the case _at all,_ and if Newt were sober right now he would so utterly embarrassed about how much those hands affect him. 

He’s practically whimpering when he’s dropped to his feet, still so consumed in the feel of _Thomas_ , that he barely hears the muttered goodnight and the click of the door closing. 

                    
               When Newt wakes up it’s raining outside and the sound doesn’t soothe him like it usually does. Instead, it makes him groan and throw his forearm over his eyes. Thank god he still has one more day until classes start. His other hand moves to grope for his phone on his bedside table but instead encounters a glass. Curious, Newt lifts his arm up to see what dares encroach on his side table space and finds it’s a glass of water with two ibuprofen tablets sitting on the other side of it. He scrambles to sit up and regrets the sudden motion immediately. When he turns to look over into Thomas’s room, he sees the door is ajar and no one is on the other side. Newt knows full well that Drunk Newt doesn’t have enough forethought to leave pain-relievers for himself in the morning, so it must have been Thomas, right? 

But Thomas barely knows him, so why would he leave him relevants? How did he even know Newt would be hungover? He feels like he’s swallowed a rock suddenly. What the fuck happened last night? He steps out of bed, starting for his phone, but his stomach has other ideas. The stumble to and out of the bathroom is not pleasant and Newt takes the ibuprofen gratefully after. His phone is buzzing with texts when he finally reaches it. Hopefully, his friends will have some answers. 

Newt is not surprised they don’t. In fact, _they’re_ asking _him_ what happened last night and when Newt thinks about it, he does remember them taking at least two more shots then he. He figures they should probably meet at the cafe and construct a timeline so he can stop worrying about what happened. Maybe Teresa can even make some predictions about how Thomas knew Newt had been drinking last night. He sends a quick to their group chat about his plan and starts to get dressed. A sense of comforting control washes over him as he pulls on a fresh shirt and starts for the bathroom to brush his teeth. He opens the mirrored cabinet to get his toothbrush and as it swings shut he gets a good look at what he’s sporting on his collarbone. 

Shit.

 

~3~

 

To say that Newt was freaking out as he walked to _Times New Coffee_ , would be the understatement of the century. He was worried, scared, confused and having a goddamn mental breakdown. _What the fuck happened last night?_ The simple question rolls through his head as he practically runs down to the shop, rolls through his head as he orders his chai, rolls through his head as he sits down, and when his friends appear in front of him, looking just as bad if not worse than himself, he feels this sinking feeling that he might never know just what went down last night. 

As they sit down with him Teresa sighs and says, “So we almost took Minho to the hospital.”

He stares at her with a tired expression. “Really? You’re gonna open with that?”

“It’s not my fault you threw up like eight times this morning. What the hell else were we supposed to do if you got worse?”

“Let me die in peace.”

Gally and Newt share a look as they bicker on and Newt eventually takes out a pen, steals a napkin, and clears his throat expectantly. 

They don’t hear him, or at least pretend not to, but then Gally flicks both of their foreheads and they finally turn to the two of them. 

“It’s like raising toddlers,” Gally says to Newt, his nose wrinkling with his disturbed expression. 

Newt decides not to comment, trying to spare themselves a second argument, and dives right in to what they’re here for in the first place. 

“Okay, what do we remember about last night?”

“We started taking shots at about eleven,” Teresa says instantly. Newt can tell by her look that she’s just as concerned about last night as him. “We stopped at maybe one after that game of Never Have I Ever--”

“Where you cheated,” Minho mutters. 

“And after that, I don’t remember shit.” She looks down at Newt’s head as he draws a long line and starts filling out different times on the napkin. 

Minho scratches his head and looks down at his cold brew. “I don’t remember finishing the game.”

They give him a bewildered look before Gally continues where Teresa left off. “After Never Have I Ever we played Moan the Bottle--”

Teresa, Newt, and Minho all groan at the mention of the game. 

“I still despise that name.”

“I concur, and also why do we only play that game when drunk?”

Gally goes on and ignores them, “Teresa spun and got Newt and then he left, saying he was tired. It was like three maybe?” 

Fuck that doesn’t answer anything, Newt thinks as he scribbles Gally’s info down. 

“Did Teresa give me a hickey?” He asks Gally as he finishes. 

“Of course. Why?”

“Do you know where it was?” Newt says, not even bothering to answer Gally’s question, but he’s already getting this knowing look from Teresa and even Minho. 

Gally looks at him like he crazy but responds anyways. “Base of the neck, I think.”

“ _Newt,_ ” Teresa calls in a sing-song voice. “You already know I never leave marks on friends.” 

He flushes under her gaze. “I know, but we were really drunk and--”

“And you need answers because you have a visible hickey,” She finishes for him. Her eyes trail down to his scarf and she swears. “Fuck, I should’ve guessed from the scarf.”

But the teasing is so far from over as Newt turns to look at Minho and sees the mischief flared in his eyes. “Could it have been left by a certain someone? Who happens to be your roommate.”

Newt’s mouth flaps open and closed like a fish, and when he turns to Gally for help or maybe even counsel, he’s just staring at him with a huge smirk. 

When Newt finally gets reorientated he scowls and takes a sip of his drink. “We all know Thomas is about as straight as Minho, if not straighter. There has to be another explanation.”

Minho breathes out a scoff that turns into a chuckle. “If Thomas were a hundred percent straight he wouldn’t rave about Dylan O’Brien ten times a day.”

Gally and Teresa burst out laughing as Newt narrows his eyes and lets his scowl deepen. 

“Fuck you Minho. Fuck you and your token straight boy bullshit.” 

That just causes laughter to break out from all three of them and as Newt begins to pout he gets a text from Sonya. 

_Sonya: Hey loser I just got in. Help me move in thirty?_

Newt groaned loudly before responding. 

_Newt: Finnnnnnnnne_

_Sonya: <3 _

“Anyways,” Teresa says. “Triple Delta is holding a back to school party tonight. We should definitely go. Especially since Newt is going to be paranoid about drinking and therefore on sober duty.”

“It’s not even my week,” Newt protested, sitting straighter in his seat. 

“True, but since you can’t remember last night you’re going to be against drinking for at least a couple of days. It’s classic Newt terminology.”

He gave her a pouty glare. “I don’t like you.” 

She leaned over the table towards him. “Boy, you know you love me.”

“I’m totally down for that party,” Minho said, interrupting them. 

Gally scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m surprised you were able to get out of bed this morning. You definitely blacked out last night considering you don’t even remember when we took shot _one._ ” 

“Being a lightweight is not going to restrict my alcohol consumption in any way, shape, or form.” 

“It should,” Teresa said after a short chuckle. “Last time you took more than five shots in public you ended up eating Aris’s copy of Pride and Prejudice.” 

“And breaking Rachel’s Nalgene which I’m not even sure how you managed to do,” Newt added humorously. 

Minho rolled his eyes at them and leaned back in his seat. “At least I’m not a clingy drunk in public.”

“Or a lonely one.”

“Or a sad one.”

“Or the one where you wanna watch romcoms-”

“I get it,” He said forcefully, cutting off their list. 

Newt finished off his chai in one last sip and stood. “I’ve gotta go help Sonya move. I’ll meet up with you guys in the campus center later.” 

They exchanged goodbyes and Newt was off from University Village to the freshman dorms. The walk was very much needed considering all of his panics. He always liked the fall season. The weather was always the perfect temperature for breathing deeply and it gave the slightest chill to your skin that told you you were _alive._ It was the time of year when the air was fresh with earthy scents and crisp with the edge of cold. It was _perfect_ , and Newt loved everything about it. And when it rained after all the leaves had fallen? It was the best smell ever to naturally occur. 

Now the fragrance was tainted with thoughts of Thomas. Even the sound of the rain now reminded Newt of him, and Newt wasn’t sure how to reverse that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to either. 

 

~3~

 

“You know, most people can unpack their clothing and set up _two chairs_ by themselves,” Newt commented as he refolded another shirt and set it into Sonya’s dresser. 

“Shut up. You told me you would help so here you are. Helpers don’t complain. Besides, none of my friends have arrived yet so you know what that means.”

“Unless you want to be around three other hungover sophomores who all call me ‘Surfer Mom’ you shouldn’t hang with us today.”

Sonya scoffs and continues hanging up a sweater. “At least you’re not a Karen like Rachel.” 

Newt cracks a smile at her comment because Rachel is such a Karen it hurts. The chick drinks margaritas for Pete’s sake. What college kid drinks mixed drinks? 

A Karen, that’s who. 

He would never forget the day Rachel and Sonya were introduced and Rachel spent about five minutes picking apart and trying to understand her nickname choice. Newt could barely stand he was laughing so hard. 

Sonya was a year younger than all of her friends - excluding Harriet - because she met them through Newt. None of her highschool friends ended up going to the same college as her and because she knew she wanted to end up at the same college as Newt, she weaseled her way into his friend group. Of course, she had always been welcome. Not only because she was Newt’s sister, but because Sonya was just so _magnetic_ . There were few other ways to describe it. She was confident and so loyal you could see it in every way she interacted with someone. Her humor was always shared by others and easy to play along with. She drew people in. It was a gift Newt had always been jealous of. Making people stay was always something he could never do. But at least _he_ could go by nicknames that made sense. 

When they finished Sonya hustled Newt out of her room, saying she needed time to “settle in.” But Newt could tell she was going to have Harriet over and just didn’t want him to know. To her ignorance, Newt knew they were dating. It was all too obvious, and Sonya had never been good at hiding feelings.

They were alike in that way. 

Regardless, Newt let her play her little charade and left, happy to be out in the cool and clean air. It washed over him as if a welcome and a warning, bringing out the relief of a fresh breeze and the bite of the slight cold. He loved it. It was terribly refreshing and as he walked he found himself taking in gulps of it. It was unfortunate he had to start school during fall considering it was the best season. 

He checked the time and shot a text at Teresa, asking what time they should meet for the party and figured he had a couple hours to kill. Since he was practically at his dorm already, he might as well waste his time there. Thank god for Netflix. Newt found as he climbed the stairs he was gradually accepting this whole Thomas roommate thing, and he’s glad for that fact simply because it means he can comfortably enter his room without his heart rate spiking. 

Mostly. 

The in-between door is still wide open and when Newt doesn’t see Thomas on the other side he tries not to be disappointed. He tries to convince himself it’s simply because they need to talk about what happened last night and if Thomas knows anything, but his brain just betrays him, telling him how much he really craves the brunette’s presence. It frustrates and hurts his heart too much to pine over Thomas Clark right now so he grabs his computer quickly and loads up some random Netflix drama. He ends up watching some stupid teenage romance about this girl whos apparently freakishly tall. Throughout the entire movie, Newt pauses once about every five minutes to rant about how 6’1 is not that tall and to break down laughing over the Swedish guy’s terrible name. Seriously, just how much do his parents hate him? 

He’s just about to screech about the _fucking milk crate_ when he hears the lock click and the door swings open. 

Thomas’s hair is heavily windswept and a bit damp but in the most attractive way known to man, and Newt didn’t even notice it was raining outside until he sees the coat hanging off Thomas’s shoulders. They stare at each other for a little until Newt pulls himself together and speaks. 

“Hey,” is all he manages. 

“Hey,” Thomas says in response, just as soft as Newt had said it. 

Newt smiles at him a little and continues on. “I didn’t even notice it was raining.”

Thomas relaxes a tiny bit and steps forward, closing the door behind him. “It’s more like a monsoon.” 

Newt’s smile widens in a humorous fashion before dropping slightly again. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

Thomas’s eyes widen at his question and he clears his throat. “‘Course. Do you?” He looks up at Newt sheepishly through his lashes. 

Newt snorts. “I remember about half of it. But nothing about when I got back.” His eyes wander as he speaks but quickly meet Thomas’s again in fear as he realizes something. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” 

Thomas laughs and steps forward into Newt’s space. “You could say that.”

As Newt is sat there having trouble breathing, Thomas looks down at the hickey on his collarbone and swipes his thumb across it. “You’ve got a hickey,” he says, and then steps back to go to his room, leaving Newt shivering from the loss of something he couldn’t call anything else than the delicious feel of _Thomas._

_What._

_The._

_Fuck._

Newt falls from his sitting position to staring at the ceiling, limbs sprawled out across his bed. What was that? He wonders absently, not daring to look over into Thomas’s room. Did he imagine that or did he just over-exaggerate it in his head? Newt hated being blinded by his own want for that to be as sexual as it seemed to be. He hated thinking this flirting was all in his head. But it must be because Thomas was only into girls, right? Even if he was into guys, Newt was plainly not his type, right? He grumbled in annoyance at his thoughts and answered them all negatively, trying to stifle the hope of Thomas actually being interested in him. 

It was a losing battle. 

The only reason he was pulled out of his thoughts was because of his phone ringing. H reached over to look at the caller ID and answered immediately when he saw Teresa’s name. 

_“Hey loser, we’re meeting up at my dorm in ten.”_

“You could’ve just texted me,” Newt responded, getting up to put on a sweater. 

_“I did. About twenty times.”_

He blinked, eyes widened and eyelashes fluttering. “Sorry. I was spaced out.” 

 _“Weirdo,”_ she said fondly, and then hung up.

He chuckled shortly and after pulling on a soft pair fingerless gloves moved to lean against the frame of the interconnecting door. Thomas looked up at him from his computer and Newt swiped his tongue over his lips, suddenly anxious. 

He couldn’t decide if Thomas had followed the movement or not. 

“I’m gonna be out for a while. I’ll be back around two probably.” He turned to leave, not giving Thomas a chance to respond, and rushed out the door. 

The crisp air gave him little comfort. 

 

~3~

  


Parties were only Newt’s kind of scene when he was drunk. Otherwise, they just consisted of some people watching and light drinking. Sure, sometimes he joined in on stupid party games, but they only lasted for so long until he got bored. Tonight he’s opted to just stay out of everything for as long as possible until Minho drags him into something. Newt doesn’t even really have a good reason to be sober right now. Nothing justifiable like being designated driver. He just didn’t like the thought of drinking when he still can’t remember what he did last night. Add to that the fact that Thomas had provided him with more questions rather than answering literally any of them, didn’t help. 

So that is why he’s leaned up against a wall right now, sipping at a beer casually and watching Minho destroy some poor hockey players at beer pong. It’s actually quite entertaining if he’s being totally honest, and he’s always up for making fun of hockey boys. 

What he is not ready for _at all,_ is looking into the kitchen and making eye contact with Thomas. A boy who he has avoided seeing at any party for an entire year. 

Where’s Teresa when he needs her?

Newt tries not to freak out but fails quite miserably, and when Minho sees Thomas and waves him over, he knows that hell is about to descend on him. 

He really hopes Drunk Minho doesn’t try to play matchmaker tonight. 

His stomach drops when he sees the two heading towards him and what the hell has he done in the past week to deserve this fucking karma. 

Perhaps teasing Teresa about her Hello Kitty phase was not the best idea. 

When the two reach him Minho is swaying just a little too much and Thomas looks incredibly entertained by this. 

“Hey buddy boy,” Minho says over the music. 

Newt smirks at him and swirls his drink around in his cup. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”

“I lost count at four,” Minho says after thinking about it for a moment. 

Thomas turns to Newt and they share an amused look that makes his spine tingle. It makes him want to drink more. 

But then, because of course, he would, Minho ruins the mood by giggling at the two of them. 

Newt gives Minho the sharpest glare he could muster as Thomas asks, “What?”

“Oh nothing,” Minho responds smugly, and before Newt can reprimand him Teresa shows up at his side. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna play spin the bottle,” she says as she links arms with Minho and winks at Newt. 

Before he can protest them leaving him alone they’re already disappearing into the sea of people and Newt lets out a sigh. 

Well shit.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> critique is always welcome <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, my chapter lengths are inconsistent but i could feel the writers block on this one so i needed to post it  
> i promise next update will be much longer!!
> 
> also homegurls gotta [tumblr](https://consumedby-rain.tumblr.com/) now

When Minho points out Newt at the party, Thomas loses total control of his breathing. His hands start to lightly shake he’s so affected by him. So many things are going through his head when his gaze finds the blonde’s. His breaths speed up when they lock eyes and he has to look away to keep himself from passing out. He has to focus on his breathing in order to get his rhythm of inhaling and exhaling back. But even as he looks away, the guttural urge to stare at Newt arises again. He can’t tear his eyes away from those soft golden locks he pulled on, or the smooth skin he bit and then soothed over with swirls of his tongue. And when Thomas finds a red bruise breaking the pattern of a silky collarbone? 

It’s all over.

But Minho is moving, parting through the crowd and dragging Thomas’s limp body along for the ride, bringing him right into the danger zone. He can barely manage to form words in his mouth as they talk casually, and when Teresa saunters over he starts to think he’s saved, but no. She just scoops up Minho and leaves the two of them alone. 

Fantastic. 

It’s barely been a full day since that night. Where Newt’s inhibitions had been left behind in an empty bottle of liquor, and Thomas had sucked up every second of it greedily. It had left him hot, bothered, and confused in the most terrifying way he could think of. Though, the confusion had also left him with a satisfying warmth in his chest. The heat bloomed and stretched every time his mind wandered back to the way Newt’s body curled around his own and how his soft whimpers had sent electric zips down Thomas’s spine. The entire experience was terribly wonderful and no matter how hard he tried, Thomas could not get it out of his head. Odd too was the fact that when he recalled these memories he  _ blushed.  _ Thomas didn’t even know he could blush. 

But apparently he has a thing for blonde  _ boys  _ now. 

By no sense of the word did Thomas consider himself gay or even bisexual but now he’s starting to seriously wonder. Surely, that is the last thing he wants to question himself. Sure, he totally supports the LGBT community. No, he’s not a dick to people in the community and totally respects them. He also doesn’t particularly want to question his entire existence as a fuck boy. 

So, if anyone asked him if he was attracted to Newt, he’d say no. 

But if that boy started trailing hot kisses down his neck again, he’d have no choice but to say  _ hell yes.  _

That is the only reason why he’s trailing behind Newt as he follows Teresa, and the sole reason he sits down to play this game. Thomas really wasn’t looking for a makeout session tonight but if it clears his thoughts of a blonde boy, he won’t object. The possibility of liking a guy made Thomas’s head spin and he really did not want to admit that he was even attracted to Newt. He needed to prove to himself that this was not, in fact, an actual interest. It must be just a ‘spur of the moment’ kind of thing. That has to be it, right? The grumbling of Teresa draws him out of his thoughts. He holds back a laugh as he sees her bickering with Newt. He wasn’t quite sure why they were arguing, or why Teresa was intently looking at him when Newt was making a point not to, but Thomas was definitely savoring the boy's appearance as they argued.

Newt was flushed and ruffled and Thomas was enjoying every second of it. His ears were burning with soft reds. Not quite as bright as cherry or crimson, but a dustier and natural red. One that suited him, and the light freckles laid across his skin, terribly well. A red that made you think of fresh apples laid out in the warm sun. As Teresa laughed at this red, blush bloomed to the back of his neck, dipping down past his shirt. Thomas wanted to follow that red. Wanted to find out if it was just as sweet as hot summer fruit.

As he tried to shake these ridiculous thoughts out of his head, Thomas locked eyes with a girl sitting across from him in a tight dress. Her hair was long and golden and when he meets her stare she blushes and looks away. She was a staple distraction for Thomas.

For once the gods have listened to him.

He leans back and chuckles as Minho struggles to grab an empty beer bottle. Of course, they were letting the light-weight start. Minho’s ‘experimenting’ with different tactics of spinning the bottle when Thomas hears a snort from his left side. He turns to follow the noise, already knowing full well who made it. Newt’s laughing with Ben’s new dorm mate - probably at Minho - and it takes everything in Thomas not to glare at them. Why he feels the need to, he has no idea. Newt was allowed to laugh with his friends. Thomas was neither in their circle nor had any right to act possessive towards Newt. 

What was wrong with him?

He turned back to the game, trying to keep a passive face. There is no way Thomas is going to allow someone to see the growing want he has for this boy. Or was ‘want’ a strong word? Perhaps he was more…  _ interested _ in him? No, that sounded strange too. Thomas scrunched up his nose in confusion and thought. He turned to let himself get lost in the common feelings of the others around him, needing something to distract him from the emotions bubbling in his chest.

They all laugh at Minho when his spin comes back to land on himself, and he finds himself demanding that Minho respins. He does, and Rachel is so not happy when he leans over to give her a short kiss on the lips. They decide, through her protests, that Rachel should spin next and continue the game in that order. A groan trickles out of her lips as the bottle lands on Frypan, and he makes some flippant comment on how he isn’t crazy about her either before she kisses him so quickly, she falls onto her back trying to get away. The group laughs and giggles drunkenly, and Frypan can’t even spin the bottle he’s shaking so much with laughter. 

It goes on like that for a little while, and when it’s Teresa’s turn to spin she stops and looks up with a deadly look in those eyes. 

“We should spice it up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Newt says under his breath, already onto what she's proposing.

“Moan the bott-”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Gally says harshly, cutting her off. 

She pouts and then spins but cheers right up when it lands on Gally, mocking him as soon as it stops in front of his lap. 

“Witchcraft,” Minho shouts lazily. Everyone misses the kiss between the two due to the fact that they’re rolling on the floor under Drunk Minho’s commentary.

Gally’s spin lands on the blonde Thomas has been hoping for all night, and when she spins he almost weeps for the kindness of his fortune. The bottle stares him down as it stops squarely in front of him, and he grins as the girl’s friends start teasing her immediately. A sure sign she's been interested in him for the whole party. Thomas makes sure to hold the kiss for a little longer than necessary, the distraction definitely worth the embarrassment. He sends her a wink as they pull away back to the spots opposite of each other. The blush he earns is almost worth reveling in. Almost. 

He’ll be back for her later. 

When the group disperses, he walks up to her immediately, ignoring the disapproval on Minho’s face. They flirt for the rest of the night. She convinces Thomas to take far too many shots, and he convinces her to go back to his dorm with him. He ignores the disapproval of his own mind as she moans against him, just as he ignored the disapproval of his best friend. 

~4~

Thomas wakes the next morning with a massive headache and he groans as the sunlight streaming into his room shines down on him. When he finally opens his eyes it’s quite the battle to keep them that way. He groans again and turns to his side table where two ibuprofen pills are sitting next to a glass of water. Slowly, he sits up in his bed and grins lightly at the familiar sight. 

Then, he remembers the escapades of last night and checks to make sure that blonde isn’t still here with him. Luckily, she’s left, a note in her place. 

 

_ Let’s make this a thing  _

 

_ ~Mindy _

 

Thomas perks an eyebrow at it and throws it into his side table drawer without a second thought. Her number is attached but he doesn’t bother putting it in his phone. Maybe she’ll get a text when his boredom works itself up. For now, though, he’d prefer to leave it at a one-night stand. Sorry, Mindy. He rolls out of bed and stretches out his sore muscles. It’s simply drizzling outside today. Thomas’s window is partway fogged and all you can see from it is the cloudy sky. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Overcast weather was the worst. He much preferred the brilliance of the full sun, warm and welcoming and so bright you always needed the company of sunglasses, no matter where you were. Sun made everything brighter and greener but in a colorful manner instead of the rain’s drowsy one. 

Thomas walks to the door where his towel is hanging and scoops it up to take his morning shower. He walks past the sleeping shape of Newt and smiles slightly. A tuft of blonde hair was sticking up from a blanket-wrapped form that was unmistakably Newt’s. The longer Thomas stared, the more he realized his attraction to Newt was just a spur of the moment. He felt nothing for this boy curled up into his comforter, nothing at all. They were just roommates. His smile spread bigger at this small victory he had uncovered and continued into the bathroom. The water was closely adjusted to the hottest setting when Thomas stepped in, and he almost let a moan aloud at the delight of heat. One of the reasons Thomas had started a habit of taking early morning showers was so that he could get to the warm water before anyone else. It was so disappointing to take a lukewarm shower. It didn’t satisfy Thomas quite as much as a scorching hot one, and besides that, hot water was much more comfortable to jack off under. 

A low whine managed to escape Thomas’s lips. There was, perhaps, one downside to morning showers:

You had to be quiet. 

Thomas brought up one of his hands to cover his mouth as the other pulled on his cock slowly. His eyes fell shut as he tipped his head back against the tile and started to establish a rhythm, loving the feeling of warm water pounding against his chest as he worked himself over. He thought back to last night, having that pretty blonde all over him, unclasping her bra with one twist. Her hands roaming his stomach as she took him into her inviting mouth, sucking at his cock as she twirled her tongue around it, bobbing her head in practiced rhythm. Thomas’s hand worked faster as he recalled the feeling of pleasure. He remembered how she had sunk down unto his dick, moaning in melodic tones as she rode him mercilessly. 

Thomas wondered if Newt could ride him like that, could use Thomas’s cock to pleasure himself and come only from that. Quickly, Thomas’s memory of last night morphed into a fantasy. He was too lost in the pleasure of his own hand on his shaft to notice Mindy had been replaced with Newt. Instead of her,  _ Newt  _ was twirling his tongue on the tip of his dick,  _ Newt _ was bouncing atop his hips,  _ Newt  _ was moaning in gorgeous tones with beautiful lengths. And when Thomas finally came from the images in his mind, Newt’s name was caught in his throat. 

_ Fuck. _

~4~

When Thomas meets up with his friends at Alby’s dorm, he is desperately trying to act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Not that he doesn’t trust his friends - which he definitely does - it's more that he was… embarrassed. Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he had  _ seriously _ masturbated to someone, and to make it about ten times worse, this person was male. He didn’t want to be teased or pushed to talk to Newt more or any of that nonsense. If he lets that get too out of hand, he might start to actually  _ like _ the boy, and that's a major fucking problem. So Thomas opts to keep this one little thing a secret from his friends. They’ll understand later down the line. 

“So Thomas,” Ben starts, pulling him into the conversation. Thomas did not like the wicked smile on his face. “Who was that girl you whisked away last night?”  

He opened his mouth to respond but was smothered by Brenda’s voice. 

“ _ She  _ whisked  _ him  _ away if anything. I saw you take back more tequila than you have in a while.” Her head was rested in her palm as she stared him down. 

“ _ I  _ made the first move-”

“Per usual,” Alby chipped in.

“And I needed the distraction,” he finished with a shrug. 

Ben whistled and shook his head. “Stone cold Thomas Clarke. Bet you don’t even know her name.”

Thomas blinked at him and realized, he didn’t know her name. “Uhhh-”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, her name is Mindy,” Brenda said with a roll of the eyes. 

“How do you know that?” Alby questioned her, arms crossed over his chest. 

“She’s cute,” Brenda responded as if it was the obvious answer. 

“I’ve got her number,” Thomas offered to her. It’s not as if he was ever going to use it.

“Oh that poor soul,” Brenda cooed, “She should know better than to give Clarke her number. Lemme guess, poor Mindy left a note too?”

Thomas nodded solemnly. “You bet she did.” 

“Are you ever going to even  _ try _ and date someone? It’s been four years now that you haven’t even had a crush,” Ben said in exasperation. 

Don’t you dare give anything away, Thomas told himself harshly. “Datings just not for me I guess.”  

Ben seemed unhappy with his answer but dropped the subject nonetheless. Brenda, however, did not. 

“It’s good for you to have early relationships. There has to be someone on campus that’s fit for you. What about that Teresa girl? She’s terribly hot and wicked smart. Aren’t you rooming with her best friend or something? It’s practically meant to be.”

An electric zip traveled down Thomas’s spine at the mere mention of Newt, and he straightened up a little. “She’s... not my type,” he gave her lamely.

“Why, ‘cause she’s not blonde?” Brenda raised a bow at him, a smile hidden underneath her sarcasm. 

“If Thomas wants to die alone because he couldn’t be bothered to get to know anyone, that’s his problem,” Alby put in for Thomas. 

“Thank… you?” Thomas responded, the realization that Alby had not really come to his defense dawning on him halfway through his gratitude. He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes at the lot. Why does he always get picked on? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god forbid you actually like anyone, Thomas
> 
> homegurls gotta [tumblr](https://consumedby-rain.tumblr.com/) x2


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is barely edited. 
> 
> im disappointed in me too

Waking up the next morning was not ideal for Newt. His head was pounding and the fact it took him ten minutes to fully remember last night was terrifying. Obviously, he had been drinking for two. Remembering _why_ he had been taking back vodka though, was something he wanted to forget. The jealousy had been like a constant prick in his skin. Seeing Thomas and that sorority girl laughing at each other while taking tequila shots had made Newt ill. When they stuffed themselves into a corner and sucked on each other's lips it made fume. Then, as the party died down and they left together, giggling the whole way, Newt was heartsick. 

Fuck you, Thomas Clarke. 

But as he stumbled into their room and the blonde girl stumbled out, he found himself leaving two ibuprofen tablets and a tall glass of water on Thomas’s bedside. He smiled at the boy’s sleeping form and all the previous hurt was sucked out from Newt’s chest. He wished he could crawl under Thomas’s covers and spread kisses across those smooth shoulders. He wanted to kiss every elegant mole and mark that was stretched across pale skin. 

There was something wrong with him- very seriously wrong with him. Honestly, could he count this as just a crush at this point? It was becoming a borderline obsession. Teresa always scoffed at him when he said that though. Apparently having a crush is “healthy” and Newt shouldn’t “try and nitpick his feelings,” whatever that meant. No words could clear the frustration of the fact that here he was, mouth dry from last night’s vodka shots, wishing he had woken early enough to see Thomas and his ruffled hair. Newt threw his hands over his eyes and groaned. What the fuck was even happening? How had things gone so impossibly wrong? He needed a goddamn black tea. 

After a quick lukewarm shower and pulling on a pair of jeans, he was on his way over to the cafe, the pure thought of caffeine ushering him there. Newt rubbed his chilly hands together once inside the building and ordered his drink ‘to go’ since he was running a bit late. The walk back was significantly better since he had a tasty hand warmer. The tea was good today- bless that barista and his heavy hand on the sweetener. Newt checked his phone for the time and rushed across campus once he saw it. Honestly, how embarrassing would it be if he was late to the first class of the semester? Teresa would never let him live that down. So he ignored how green the grass was today and how the moss growing softly on the trees looked in order to get there on time.  

He was not late to his Organic Chemistry class, his teacher, on the other hand, was. It was by mere minutes though and was not the centre of Newt’s attention as he saw a dreaded brunette beeline for the seat next to him. Saying Newt had a visceral reaction couldn’t quite capture the pure panic he felt in those few seconds it took Thomas to cross the room. He felt frozen but in less of a fear way and more in an “Oh shit,” way. This unique feeling that his entire body was going to shut down racked through him- like everything refused to operate until the threat had dissipated. This was an inescapable typhoon that had crashed into Newt’s system, and much like the wave of wet teakwood that overcame him as Thomas sat down, it was drowning him. 

“Morning,” Thomas whispered to him as he took out his laptop. 

Newt thanked the Lord he had enough cells functioning so that he could respond. He had no idea what was going on around him. Everything had faded out except Thomas so that he could focus on not making an idiot of himself. Had the world flipped upside down? If Newt had had an answer to that question, it would’ve remained unanswered anyway because Thomas was speaking again. 

“Hey, did you leave that ibuprofen on my bedside?” 

Newt responded he had and could feel the blush rise on his cheeks. He should have pinned it on the damn blonde girl instead. What if Thomas thought that was going too far? What if he suspected Newt cared a little too much for him? Those embarrassed thoughts melted as soon as Thomas gave him the signature Clarke smile, bright as the sun and accentuated by adorable dimples. Newt could have stared at that boy and his seductively flipped hair all day. His professor’s voice drew him away from all the fantasies that left Newt’s tongue numb, and _fuck_ , he really needed to pass this class. So he tried to concentrate on the lesson, managing it for the first hour or so. 

It went smooth. His brain needed to play a bit of catch-up with the material but that’s what notes are for. The rhythm of class came back to him easily. He had almost missed the normalcy of it, and everything brightened up when a peak of sun raced through the window of the classroom. It light up a perfect section of the room as if the beam had been cut with a sharp knife. 

The peace was then broken. Newt almost jumped in his seat when he felt Thomas’s knee against his. Of course, he had a nervous tick of popping his leg up and down and of fucking course when he finally stops it's just so that it rests against Newt’s. The lightning that jumped between the two made him want to pull away, but it was cloaked with this alluring warmth. It made Newt want to press his entire thigh against Thomas’s- and that alone scared him

~5~

_Gally: Hey bitch bonfire tonight be there or be square_

Newt sighed at the message, knowing he practically had to go. He was a STEM major. It was his job to get hammered, wake up, get ‘C’s, and repeat until he graduated. Besides, even if he didn’t need the distraction, Teresa would beat him up if Newt didn’t show.  

_Newt: Alcohol?_

_Gally: Tf do you think I am without it?_

Alright. This was happening. As long as Thomas isn’t there, Newt can deal. Besides, he needs to drown his sorrows before they come spilling out of him. 

_Newt: Meet you in student parking_

At least Newt wouldn’t have to see Thomas for the rest of the day. It was probably best for his heart if he only saw him in the mornings and at night. Any more contact and he’ll just gawk even more. 

Newt returned to his dorm room with about ten pounds of homework and four hours to do it. The heap landed on his desk with a loud thud, causing Newt to jump slightly, even though he had caused the din. He curved to turn on his short desk lamp, feeling the peace of loneliness as he looked around the room. The weather outside was overcast, clouds dark but not angry enough to do anything but drizzle. Light from the sky filtered through Newt’s window, giving him the serene sadness he missed as a night owl. When he was much younger, Newt used to wake with the sun. He loved the bittersweet feeling of the wind through his hair and the pull at his heart as the sun rose. And when the clouds were like this, it struck him with such a potent familiarity it made him want to cry. 

Newt always did his work before going out at night. It saved him so much stress. It was also how he kept his grades somewhat steady. Versus Minho’s method which consisted of him waking up two hours after getting home and doing all his work then, in the morning, horribly hungover. Quantity over Quality. Newt wondered what Thomas’s habits were. If he went out every night like Newt’s group did. If he preferred only to take back shots on the weekend. He wondered if when Thomas was very, _very drunk_ , he could be convinced to lay bites and kisses over Newt’s collarbone. If he could be coerced to suck at Newt’s lower back. Maybe even _volunteer_ to do those things and worse. God, Newt wanted that ‘worse.’ Wanted so badly to just fuck Thomas. To be fucked by Thomas. 

He shifted in his seat, pushing away the arousing thoughts and trying to replace them with ‘scholarly’ ones- but when he tried to focus, his mind always ended up on involuntary fantasies. He even managed to think of schemes to get Thomas into his bed. How had his thoughts gotten so derailed so quickly? All his brain was doing was producing vivid images of Thomas fingering him, or blowing him, even just giving him hickeys. They made him twist and turn in his seat, wanting so badly to touch himself but wanting even more to finish his classwork. 

In the end, his horny side won and all previous reason got thrown out the window. Swearing in defeat, Newt wriggled out of his pants and slid his hand down himself eagerly, whining at the friction and shivering at the unexpected wetness of his own precome, but with images of Thomas filling him still fresh in his mind, Newt wanted more than usual. He rifled through his desk drawers frantically, relaxing at the sight of his lube. With the substance spread across his fingers, he stretched down and circled the pucker of his hole. The combined coldness of his fingers and the substance made him shiver.

When a finger slipped inside of him, his head tilted slightly back in pleasure. His eyes were still open, but definitely droopier. Newt found he had a habit of closing his eyes while lost in pleasure. The speed of the hand around his cock sped up as he fingered himself deeper and faster. The coordination was sloppy though. His wrist ached from the position it was cracked in but he didn’t care. The tingles shooting up his spine outweighed the ache in his forearm. He curled his fingers towards his prostate and the hand that was wrapped around his erection stuttered as he lost himself. A part of him was scared of Thomas wandering in and finding him like this. Another deeper part of him _wanted_ Thomas to find him in such a state: wet with lube and precome, shivering from sheer pleasure and flushed as he whispered the brunette’s name. Even as Newt added a third finger, it still wasn’t enough. He needed Thomas, thick and warm inside him, filling him entirely. Newt came with Thomas’s name on his lips and a moan followed close behind. 

His chest heaved and he stood to clean himself up. Even after that, Newt was still unsatisfied. He went back to his work, his mind clearer but his heart hurting more than before. He tried to drown the feelings by focusing on equations and calculations but every time he paused the emotions hit him full force again. Schoolwork was not enough of a distraction for him. As the minutes trickled by and his assignments grew less and less tall, the time finally came for an actual distraction: the bonfire. 

Surely, being warmed by alcohol on the inside and fire on the outside would make Newt feel better. Surely. 

He slipped on a raincoat over his sweater, even though it had stopped raining, and shot a text to the group chat. The cool night air was perfect for a bonfire. It was just cold enough to cause chills but nothing past that. When he reached the parking lot, everyone was already there. 

“I don’t appreciate being the chauffeur,” He said when they were within hearing distance. 

“Then gimme the keys.” Teresa stuck her hand out. 

Newt glared at her and unlocked the car. 

When they got to the beach, the party was already roaring.

“Not-it,” Teresa said, putting her finger to her nose.

Newt and Gally followed suit quickly then turned to look at Minho. He moaned and slumped in his seat. 

“ _Fine._ I will be the DD tonight.”

As the group walked to the beach, Newt immediately spotted Thomas. He was talking to a friend of his, drink in hand and smiling with humour. One of his eyes was lit up by the fire. His pupil was still wide and dark but his usually dark iris had presumed the colour of melting wax. It was like looking into a pool of fresh honey and pure sunlight. His hair, marked by the light, was blazing with oranges and fiery reds. The colours danced among his hair as the fire danced next to him. It looked as if there was an outline of potent candlelight around him. Newt could make out the delicate hairs laid on the nape of his neck in the romantic lighting. They glowed from an amber to a pale white. The outskirts of Thomas’s body blazed like the sun and it made his skin glow like the moonlight. Newt was frozen in place at the sight of him. He turned to walk back to the car and just leave because _not tonight,_ but Teresa grabbed his arm and forced him down to the sand. 

“You’re going,” She said, not even bothering to look at him as she dragged him to his demise. He squirmed in her grasp but didn’t resist her past that. He was grateful she decided to drop him by the whiskey. Teresa handed him a shot and a stern look. “Tonight you are either flirting with him or flushing him out of your system. I don’t care which, just go do it.” 

He nodded and downed his alcohol. The latter, at the time, was definitely the more appealing option. Newt didn’t have a chance with Thomas so why would he bother flirting with him? The boy was a hundred per cent- no questions asked- straight. 

“Good. Now let’s go drink an entire six-pack in front of Minho.” 

Said sober boy did not appreciate the teasing Teresa and Newt provided him. It just reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to play beer pong tonight. Eventually, the two took pity on him and settled down to play a drinking game of Never Have I Ever with Minho shooting water after much debate and protest. Four diluted whiskey and one vodka shot later, Rachel won- though no one was surprised. She hadn’t done so many basic college student things. Exhibit ‘A’ being: never getting lower than a ‘B’ on a test. Almost everyone playing had taken a shot to that one. When they had finished, Newt was pretty goddamn drunk. So much so, that he willingly engaged in a conversation with Gally and some of Thomas’s friends. He officially met Gally’s roommate, Ben, and another girl named Brenda. She perked up instantly when he introduced himself.

“So _you’re_ the loser who stole my Ochem buddy from me.”  

Newt learned that Brenda shared his and Thomas’s Organic Chemistry class. Usually, she and Thomas sat together since they had shared the class last semester too, but she didn’t seem too upset he had chosen to sit by Newt this morning. He assumed she had more friends in the class than just Thomas. Brenda also told him she was majoring in Microbiology and took her Ochem class “for fun” which Newt claimed to be untrue unless she was a masochist. She also tried to convince Newt that he was not drunk enough which Gally protested. 

“Trust me, if he weren’t drunk he would not be over here,” Gally said to her.

She threw him a cynical look. “Then how the hell is he acting so sober? All he has is a slight slur.”

“Plus some awful decision skills,” Gally added. “Newt makes a very unsettling drunk.” 

Brenda didn’t quite look satisfied with that answer but dropped it anyway, easily establishing a new flow of conversation. Ben wasn’t so bad either. Apparently, Gally had talked to him more and started actually taking a liking to him. Unlike Brenda, he wasn’t very much of a talker. He was quiet for the most part but when anything did come out of his mouth it was significantly hilarious. Newt could tell he made for an awesome roommate. He could clearly see how Thomas had made quick friends with them. Especially after they both started teasing Gally for being an old man. He liked these two. What he liked even more though, had just slung its arm around Newt’s shoulders. 

“Hey, nerds, what’s up?”

Even away from the firelight, Thomas still glowed like the sun. His face was bright with emotions that drew any soul in. He almost forced you to want to know him better. Thomas was absolutely magnetic in every sense of the word. People wanted to be his friend and share his jokes. Back in high school, he was practically a god among men. Among the student body, Thomas had been one of the most popular kids in their school. It hadn’t been a stereotypical popular though, more just ‘friends with everyone’ type of popular. It certainly didn’t hurt that he had a blinding smile with adorable dimples, or that he was just charmingly cute in general. Newt had no idea why he thought he could ever get over this boy. The urge in Newt to kiss him was strong and amplified by the contact between them, even if it _was_ very platonic. 

Ben gave Thomas a once over and replied, “What’s up with you, Sobersville?”

“I think we should play Paranoia,” Thomas suggested. 

“Hell yeah,” Newt responded instantly. The beaming smile he got from the other boy made his heart flutter.

“What is it with you guys and party games?” Gally asked.

“Hush, elder. They’re fun and irresponsible.” Brenda raised a single finger to Gally’s lips, her body swaying slightly with the movement. 

Gally’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m only a year older than you,” He managed to say around her digit. 

“I’ll go get Teresa and Minho,” Newt said. He was reluctant to pull away from Thomas but playing a party game sounded like such a great idea. 

When everyone was rounded up and sat down in a circle, the game began. Thomas offered to go first and thought a bit before whispering a question into Ben’s ear. He turned bright red almost immediately and responded out loud, “Gally.” 

Thomas smirked and flipped a quarter, whining when it landed on the tails side. 

“ _Now_ I’m curious,” Gally said with a smirk. 

“That’s the whole point, dumbass,” Minho told him. 

They played late into the night and found out the following things about each other: Minho, out of all the boys in the group, would fuck Thomas; Gally has had a wet dream about Teresa; Brenda would adopt a cat with Gally, and Ben would do cocaine with Minho. Everything was fluid and platonic until Minho asked Thomas a nefarious question. Everyone could tell how mischievous it was because of the smirk Minho had on his face. Thomas didn’t seem to think at all before answering Newt’s name. 

Gally jabbed the blond in the side as Minho’s face split into a shit-eating grin. He flipped the coin eagerly and was chanting, “Heads, heads, heads.” 

It was tails. 

“Damnit!” Minho swore.

Newt pouted just a little. He really wanted to know what that goddamn question was. When he turned his head to look at Thomas, he almost looked… disappointed. Newt shrugged it off, he’ll just bully Thomas into telling him when they get back to their dorm later. Eventually, the group dissipated to get back to drinking and ended up sitting around the bonfire comfortably. Newt was snuggled into Teresa’s side and was very happy there but Minho was prodding at them, saying it was time to leave. 

“C’mon kiddos, it’s past your bedtime.”

Newt whined in protest but got up all the same. Once his eyes opened again he realized Alby was gone. Newt looked to the three for whom Alby was responsible for. “Need a ride?” 

Ten minutes and some argument later, all seven of them were packed into Newt’s five-seater Uubaru with Minho behind the wheel. Teresa had taken the opportunity to tease Newt about sitting on Thomas’s lap which he got way too excited about and what actually ended up happening. It left Teresa very pouty and dissatisfied. She and Brenda were sitting behind Minho with Teresa cuddled up in Brenda’s lap. Ben was sitting in the middle seat completely passed out, leaning against Teresa’s shoulder and snoring lightly. Thomas and Newt were sitting behind Gally in the passenger's seat and Drunk Newt was more than happy with the arrangement.

Newt felt braver, and not just from the alcohol. The silence and darkness in the car provided an entirely separate world. It felt like a blanket was laid upon the seven of them- a cloth of safety perhaps. In this environment, Newt felt like he could do anything. He burrowed into Thomas’s chest, revelling in the heady scent of him. It felt so nice to be curled into a warm body and Newt almost sighed at the feeling. What was even more electrifying though, was the firm placement of Thomas’s hand at the back of Newt’s neck. When Thomas had placed his hand there, caressing his nape gently, Newt had to hold in a whimper. It felt hotter than the warm after-burn of swallowing vodka and more intoxicating than any kind of drink created. It felt like Newt could both never get bored of this contact and never get enough of it. 

Getting out of the car was so hard. Newt did not want to detangle himself from Thomas’s arms but he managed to. Minho handed him his keys and they all exchanged goodnights before stumbling off to their dorms. While walking back into his and Thomas’s room, Newt remembered the question Minho had asked Thomas earlier that night. He waited until they were safely inside their dorm to clasp Thomas’s forearm and ask him what exactly Minho had asked him to answer. Thomas flushed red but still smirked at him. “That’s a secret.” 

Newt whined at him and told him that it was mean to keep secrets from him. They were roommates after all. He didn’t think he could sleep without knowing the answer. He just couldn’t ignore the flutter of hope in his chest. It bounced around in his ribcage traitorously and he needed to know if it was justified or not- not knowing would drive him insane. If there was the smallest chance that Thomas would consider even kissing Newt, he had to know. 

After more questioning and persistent prodding, Thomas finally responded. He pushed Newt up against the door of their dorm with a dark look in his eyes. Newt gasped at the rush of movement and instantly melted to the heat of the other’s body. Thomas leaned to whisper hotly in Newt’s ear, “You really wanna know?”

Newt could only nod. He felt like his entire body was burning up. Thomas smirked into the side of Newt’s neck. 

“He asked who I would want to cover in hickeys.” 

It was fortunate that Newt was drunk at the moment because if he weren’t, he would be drowning in his own thoughts. He did so much overthinking when his brain wasn’t slowed with alcohol. If he hadn’t taken those last couple shots, his mind would be asking why Thomas wanted to give _him_ hickeys instead of Teresa or Brenda. Why Thomas found it more appealing to suck on _his_ collarbone. He was straight, wasn’t he? So why would he want to mark _Newt’s_ skin? Drunk Newt did not ask himself these questions. All he was concerned about, was flirting with Thomas. He was right to keep that hope alive in him because now he knew that Thomas wanted to leave hickeys all over his body. With that newfound knowledge, Newt felt his heart was spasming like butterfly wings. His arms wound around Thomas’s neck, inviting him to come closer and when Thomas did indeed come closer by placing his hands on Newt’s waist, Newt didn’t even bother to hold back a whimper. The way that Thomas held and cradled his hips made him feel mad with desire. Strangely, Newt felt a strong sense of deja vu as Thomas ran his warm palms up and down his sides but he didn’t care to analyze it. Instead of overthinking and asking himself unanswerable questions, he asked the brunette one. 

“Why don’t you?” 

Newt could feel Thomas’s reaction more than he could see it. He gasped when the brunette’s hands tightened on his waist and his body swayed closer to Newt’s. The mouth-watering scent of teakwood was all he could smell. It was so strong he could taste it on his tongue and Newt felt drugged by it. Everything felt warmer around him with Thomas’s body so close to his own. The feeling was wonderful but Newt was growing impatient. He wanted more contact- more _Thomas._ He could tell the brunette wanted the same but was trying very hard not to succumb to it. Newt did not currently have the self-restraint or the reasoning skills to pull away so he just leaned in even closer. His lips brushed against Thomas’s collarbone, teasing him ever so slightly. It wasn’t until Newt started sucking on his Adam’s apple that Thomas lost his delicate control. 

His firm palms seized Newt’s hips and his fingers started rubbing slow circles into them. Newt loved Thomas’s hands. They were so smooth and tan and _strong_. His fingers were long and perfectly proportioned- not too thick or too thin. The structure of his hands was certainly more slight and bony but you could tell there were thick muscles and tendons that lay underneath the skin. The touch caused Newt to lose his concentration. He felt he had lost total control of his body and given it all up to the brunette and when his head tipped back, Thomas arched forward to attack his neck and collarbones with soft nips and wet kisses. Every time he sucked Newt’s skin between his lips and into his mouth, the blond whined his name. 

A gasp, “Thomas.” A moan, “Thomas.” A whimper, “Thomas.” 

Newt didn’t think he could breathe anymore without uttering his name. It was said like a curse and a plea. _Damn you for making me feel like this,_ but also, _please don’t stop. Every time_  Thomas laid his hands on Newt, he destroyed him. He made Newt lose control of his thoughts and actions- his mind and body. When he was around, there wasn’t a single thought in Newt’s head that didn’t concern him, there wasn’t a single move he made without considering him. His entire being got swept up and lost in the whirlwind that was Thomas Clark. Every calculating essence of Newt dissolved as soon as the brunette appeared. Unconsciously, he gave everything to Thomas. He offered his attention, his warmth, his desire, his body- and he did it all involuntarily. 

Thomas's hands moved under Newt’s shirt as his lips latched onto his earlobe. The feeling of Thomas’s burning hands on his bare skin made Newt shiver. Thomas ran his hands up and down Newt’s sides before settling them back on Newt’s hips, resuming the circular movements he had been doing before. Newt’s body weakened to the touch in complete contentment. He was shivering and whimpering constantly under Thomas’s influence. Surely, his neck would be covered in hickeys tomorrow morning but Newt _had_ extended the invitation. But as long as Thomas kept touching him like this, he had no ability to think. He didn’t want to. 

Even with Thomas’s warm hands on his skin, the contact still wasn’t enough for Newt. When it came to the brunette, he was insatiable. Every second that passed amplified the desire in the room. Newt had sensed it but Thomas was still oblivious to the fact. His hands had started moving across Newt’s stomach now which made Newt feel like someone was rubbing hot silky wax across his skin. The touches made him dizzy. His skin felt raw under Thomas’s velvet fingers. They moved to toy with the blond’s nipples as he started trailing his kisses lower and lower past Newt’s collarbone and suddenly Thomas’s fingers were not velvet but electrifying. Newt loved how Thomas teased him like this. He could tell the boy was starting to get frustrated with the fabric separating them. He could sense the exact moment when all of Thomas’s thoughts left his brain as well. The brunette’s hands had travelled back down Newt’s body but now they were in the space just under his hips, barely sliding past the rims of Newt’s trousers and boxers. And _fuck_ did that drive Newt crazy. His hips jerked forward, creating delicious friction between him and Thomas- friction that Newt had been craving all night. 

But the long craved contact broke the fragile veil.

The spell that had just fallen over Thomas was broken once again, and this time it broke with a by-product of reality. 

Warmth that had invaded Newt’s whole body disintegrated when Thomas stepped away from him. His hands withdrew from that sweet spot under Newt’s hips and his lips left unfinished work on Newt’s neck. It felt like someone had suddenly doused a fire on a cold winter night. Frigid air took up the space on Newt’s body that Thomas’s used to be pressed against and he did not appreciate the feeling at all. He tried to close the distance between the two but Thomas withdrew again. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this again.” 

Newt wondered what he meant by “again” but instead asked why Thomas was opposed. 

He scoffed before answering, “You’re too drunk to walk and I’m completely sober.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” Newt insisted, taking another step forward. 

A flitter of pain crossed Thomas’s face, so trivial it disappeared in the dark. “Goodnight, Newt.”

The door tethering the two rooms together clicked closed.

And Thomas was gone. 

~5~

 

Newt is really starting to worry about his drinking habits when he wakes the next morning and doesn’t remember how he got home. The pounding headache definitely doesn’t help resurface the memories either. He knew Minho was on driving duty so they must’ve driven home, but he doesn’t remember getting in the car or any details about the drive. It didn’t bother him too much not to know though because, after all, it was just the drive back to his dorm and nothing could really happen in that short amount of time. 

Right?

But there’s not much time to dwell on his memory or lack thereof. His first-class starts in half an hour. So he scrambles into his clothing, downs some ibuprofen for his head, quickly brushes his teeth and _oh my fucking god._ Newt almost cries at the sight of himself in the mirror. Every inch of his neck, shoulders, jaw, even his collarbones, is painted in a raspberry purple. There are bite marks on his ears and bruises all over his skin and when he lifts up his shirt, his hips are stained in red fingerprints. 

_What._

_The._

_Fuck._

He panics for a minute or two before forcing himself to calm down. He switches out his usual clothes for some that cover more of his skin and what the clothing doesn’t hide he covers with concealer. When his work is done, he’s relieved that everything is hidden away nicely. But he knows he’ll have to keep this up for at least a week, judging by how dark the marks were. Who the hell left all these? Newt was very freaked out by the idea of not knowing, but there was no way of finding out without inflicting tremendous amounts of embarrassment on himself so he opted to keep it a secret. Right now, he had to get to class.

When he sits down he’s half-expecting Thomas to slide into the seat next to him. The thought of it gives him nerves, both positive and negative in nature. Newt waits for a few minutes until he walks into the room. They make eye contact across the room and Thomas has a look of disappointment on his face. Newt can’t even begin to imagine why. When Thomas chose his seat it was next to Brenda rather than Newt. A complex and tangled rush of emotions spilt into Newt’s head at the gesture and he couldn’t tell if he was disappointed, relieved, confused, jealous, or all of the above.  

He couldn’t pay attention. Like last time, it was due to Thomas Clark, but that time had been pleasant and exciting. This time, his heart was sunk to his stomach. The loss of Thomas’s leg pressed against his own made Newt lonely. He missed the contact and presence of the brunette.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i am aware of how unrealistic it is they have their own shower but just let me have this one, please


End file.
